


Allumer Un Feu

by rhythmicroman



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017), Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Gaston (Disney), Canon Gay Character, F/M, Interracial Relationship, M/M, Modern Era, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Not Canon Compliant, Other, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Romance, a lot of french, background gastafou is relevant, bc i project too much on the smol candle bab, belle is trying, chip is an edgy teen, cinnamon roll lefou, cogsworth is done with his shit, everyone has a tumblr, first batb fic, gaston still has ptsd but im not sure why, i caved and made the gastafou a main plot point, imagine if you got their 2017 designs then modernized them, lefou is pure, lumiere and lefou are polyamory buddies, lumiere bedazzles himself frequently, lumiere is a memelord, lumiere is pan and poly, lumiere is too charismatic for his own good, mrs potts is the mum friend, stanley is nonbinary, the actual storyline happened differently, their designs are slightly altered, their gays arent sure what to think of it, this was a request but i like it too much so im gonna continue it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 11:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10830012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhythmicroman/pseuds/rhythmicroman
Summary: When Cogsworth and his friends get out of Villeneuve for a holiday in Paris, he realizes that perhaps Plumette's taste in partners isn't so bad after all.[Cogsworth x Lumière centric || Read all tags before proceeding]





	Allumer Un Feu

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all know I was listening to Lady Gaga when writing this?? I'm sorry ok I love her  
> This was requested kinda??? It's gay just take it

As much as Cogsworth denied it, he didn’t _mind_ Lumière.

He wouldn’t say they were the best of friends, as they certainly argued more than considered normal, and he was absolutely sure Lumière had enough friends to last him for a while, so there seemed to be no hurry to remedy that fact – but he wouldn’t consider them enemies either, as Lumière didn’t seem to consider anyone his enemy.

Villeneuve was a fairly quiet place, where everyone seemed to fit in – well, mostly. There were a few… oddballs.

Belle, a girl much smarter than most, who excelled in every subject she was taught but was highly oblivious to the social issues around her.   
Gaston, a borderline-narcissistic vaguely-murderous prick with way too much pride to be healthy.   
Lefou, a “precious cinnamon roll” that had horrible taste in friends.

And Cogsworth befriended a few others – Mrs Potts, the “mum friend”, and her son Chip, the “edgelord”.   
Cadenza, an eccentric musician, and his wife Garderobe, a woman with a voice above any.   
Plumette, the beautiful and charismatic lover – and then, there was Lumière.

Oh dear _god_ , Lumière.

There was something about him that absolutely drove him up the wall. Maybe it was his accent, or the way he gestured exaggeratedly when he talked, or the way he never stopped blasting music. Maybe it was the fact that he’d rather be seen dead than wearing any colour that wasn’t gold, or maybe it was the way his voice didn’t leave his head until he was unconscious, but something about him was… unsettling.

It was disturbing. It was aggravating. It was… _confusing_. He didn’t understand.

Why would a woman like Plumette, with her silky curls and her angelic voice and her talent, end up with a man like Lumière, with too much flair and not enough focus? What about him was _possibly_ appealing? Try as he might, he couldn’t figure it out.

Oh well. Maybe he’ll ponder it again later.

* * *

 

Belle had made Lumière promise to behave, but it still didn’t make him act any differently. He was quiet at _first_ , with the occasional upbeat humming, but then he started, well, being Lumière. Fiddling his hands in his lap like he thought they’d disappear. Kicking his legs, swinging around, yelling out verses and practically dancing.

Perhaps he wouldn’t mind as much, if they weren’t currently on a train, a form of _public_ transportation.

“Lumière, that’s _enough_.” He muttered, after the less mature man had to apologize for nearly injuring someone.

“Oh, lighten _up_ , _mon ami!”_ Lumière had half-whined-half-laughed, jumping down to sit with his legs crossed. “We’ve been here for near _hours_ and you’re _still_ scowling, Cogsworth! What happened to your sense of humour?”

“It died the day I met _you_ ,” he grunted, earning only a laugh in response.

* * *

 

_“Be our guest, be our guest, put our service to the test…”_

Cogsworth swore that if Lumière didn’t stop singing, he’d throttle him with his own cutlery.

As much as he could respect a passion for an art, or a talent, or sudden inspiration, he did wish that Lumière would stop belting out a song every time they bought dinner. The rest of the table didn’t mind nearly as much – Plumette looked at her boyfriend with a small smile, Belle clapped softly along, Adam rolled his eyes and chuckled softly. Cogsworth found he could relate more strongly to Chip – who was facing the opposite direction, grumpily eating his food.

“Why do you do this every time?” Chip growled finally. “Why can’t we be, I dunno, normal?”

“Normal is boring, _petit_.” Lumière shrugged, making no effort to be neat as he impaled his own food. “Normal is Villeneuve. And we are not _in_ Villeneuve today, are we?”

He supposed he had a point.

* * *

 

He had to say, Lumière looked much more in his element in Paris than in Villeneuve.

The colours, the lights, the energy, it was all so… _Lumière_. And he had to admit that the pure charisma of the place was almost _intoxicating_.

Or maybe it was something he’d drank earlier on, with a name he couldn’t quite recognise.

Heat rushed to his cheeks as he watched Lumière twirl and laugh with Plumette in his arms, brightly lit by the street lights, pausing only to pant and laugh harder. Admittedly, Lumière did look quite pretty out there, smile covering his lips, reddish hair flicked all over the place, perfectly lit by some generous mesh of moonlight and candlelight.

It _must’ve_ been something he’d drank.

* * *

 

As Cogsworth slept, Lumière sat silently.

Well, as silently as Lumière _could_.

He kept fidgeting, naturally, and humming quietly under his breath, and sipping the water he’d taken from the kitchen of the lodge – but otherwise, he was silent. He didn’t quite understand why he was awake. He was quite tired, and that didn’t happen to him a lot. Usually, on even the most energetic of days, he’d be out like a light.

But that didn’t happen.

Tonight, all he could do was sit and watch the sun rise, hoping tomorrow might be easier.

* * *

 

Belle’s phone buzzed in her pocket.

Another message, sent to her advice blog: another anonymous message, that is. She seemed to get a lot of those.

The majority of the messages were clearly from her friends. Between Gaston’s indecipherable emoji-ridden capslock keysmashes and Cogsworth’s perfectly-worded inquiries about the most mundane of tasks, it was quite easy to decipher who sent what.

She squinted at the message on her screen:

_“Ma chouchoutte, I can’t stop thinking about a friend of mine. What is wrong with me??? Xxx~”_

She sighed. Everything, from the French pet name to the less-than-subtle signoff, reeked of Lumière.

Hesitantly, she began typing.

_“Well, for starters…”_

* * *

 

Lumière admitted that perhaps sending an anonymous message in his _extremely-recognizable_ texting style to his best friend’s blog might’ve been the stupidest idea he’d had yet – but it worked.

He wasn’t sure if he loved or hated the response, but either way, he was ignoring it.

* * *

 

Lumière, for all his careless laid-back façade, had quite a lot of nervous habits. Most of them were subtle, and charming – using pet names instead of real names, initiating physical contact, humming too loud to be truly humming – but others were extremely obvious.

He was glad, at moments like this, that his fire-decorated phone case was much more durable than it looked, as he’d been gnawing on its corner for the past hour or so and had yet to make a mark. He ran his fingers through his hair and let out a dramatic sigh, lying back with a hand to his face.

After all, a showman is always a showman, even when in a dilemma of the heart.

* * *

 

At breakfast, Belle shot him a knowing look, and he gulped harshly, shakily humming to mask his nerves. Cogsworth sighed beside him, and turned to look at him full-on.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, near-monotonous. “You don’t quite sound yourself.”

Lumière shrugged. “My mind’s still back in Villeneuve,” he muttered, “but I’m sure it’ll return to me swiftly, _mon ami_.”

Cogsworth nodded hesitantly and turned back to his own food.

* * *

 

It was only three days into the trip, and they’d already lost sight of Gaston and Lefou. Belle had insisted that it was really no big deal, but Mrs Potts had scoffed and made some less-than-polite remark about the taller of the two “escapees”.

Lumière found them out by a fountain, standing oddly close, strange looks in their eyes, hair and clothes ruffled slightly. He paused as they looked at him, startled, then carefully stepped forwards.

“Alright, _garçons_ , I won’t tell if you don’t.”

* * *

 

Cogsworth never thought he’d smile at the sound of Lumière screeching some forgotten Lady Gaga song in the shower, but it was growing on him.

And maybe, just maybe, the sight of the fire-hearted man in pyjamas way too big for him, gold and red and black and so flamboyantly unnecessary, was growing on him too.

And perhaps he didn’t mind catching Lumière staring at him when it grew dark and he pretended to sleep – and perhaps it wasn’t so bad when Lumière kissed his hand at midnight. Or when the sunlight caught him just right and he looked like he was blazing in chaotic flames, or when his eyes glinted mischievously and he belted out another song, or when he bedazzled his entire outfit and twirled in the sun, or when he tripped into a fountain and came out with his hair flipped awkwardly and a laugh in his throat and…

Maybe Plumette _wasn’t_ mad for loving him.

* * *

 

Lumière never thought he’d grin so widely at the sound of Cogsworth scolding him, but it was growing on him.

And maybe, just maybe, there was the tiniest chance that the way his eyes flickered when he was mad, was growing on him too.

And perhaps he didn’t mind it when he made such a fuss about looking neat, and fixed Lumière’s coat for him, and smoothed out Chip’s hair – and perhaps it wasn’t quite as aggravating when he rolled his eyes at every stupid pun Lumi could manage. Or when he interrupted his songs, or sometimes joined in, or when he shook his head and tutted, or when he got close to his face to scold him, and they both turned red and spluttered-

Wait.

Lumière shook the thought from his head.

There was no way – _absolutely NO WAY_ – he was in love with Cogsworth.


End file.
